“Memory is not good enough to sketch it. Matisse could do it… There was a lot of purple, especially in the afternoon, and always shadows. Doorways with beads. Eyes above veils. Goats. Stone Stairways. Occasional chanting…”
– Casbali, Algiers, 1943

“In the philosophic writings I have fooled around in, the question often arises: Who Am I? Strangely, I never asked myself that. I was me. But the who? was never asked. The philosophical who—there with the image, the imaginings. One needs a god here someplace.“

“The idea was to suggest (that word again) a road. Perhaps in autumn. Not much of a road…It ends abruptly, turning to stone. Ink… a touch of graphite. Specks of watercolor that would be better on WC paper.”